Pressure
by SlvrSoleAlchmst1
Summary: Some shounen ai: Dearka x Yzak. The contest fic I wrote for our latest endeavor. Failed. And yet even so, I apparently have something ridiculous and embarrassing to my reputation to show for it. Someone put me out of my misery.


A/N:

_(scrolling block) A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, when SlvrSoleAlchmst1 was still confident about her contest fics…._

_She was assigned a theme by _**The Angelic Demoness**_: Misunderstandings. (Copious amounts of innuendo and sexual activity a must to truly take the win.)_

_She chose a pairing: Dearka and Yzak._

_She had months to create a story, and she thought it over deeply. She came up with multiple ideas. But each time she tried to write, she gave up midway, dissatisfied._

_Attempt #1: ZAFT military academy. Dearka and Yzak on the training field with Athrun and Nicol, in the middle of a dangerous exercise. Dearka misinterprets one of Yzak's commands, and they fail the mission. But where does the sex fit in? (It didn't.) _1,283 words until Realization of Epic Fail point.

_Attempt #2: Yzak's office. Dearka is annoyed because Yzak is too busy to humor him. He makes a snide remark and Yzak takes it badly. Yzak ends up thinking that Dearka wants _him_ to be the dominant one in their relationship. But can SlvrSole write a seme Yzak? (No. No she can't.) _1,161 words until Realization of Epic Fail point.

_Attempt #3: ZAFT military academy again, minus Athrun and Nicol. Dearka and Yzak have just met, and they don't take kindly to one another. Because they fail to communicate with each other, they cause their team to lose a mock battle, and thus face extra training as punishment. They engage in extra training and begin to find common ground. But it was far too big a project to take on in a one-shot. (I'm saving it for a multi-chapter some day.) _1,624 words until Realization of Epic Fail point.

_And now — Attempt #4, because the deadline has fallen and something needs to be submitted._

— x —

Dearka stared at the memo in his hand, frowning until his forehead hurt.

"Well," Yzak Joule asked from the other side of the studio, "What does it _say,_ Dearka?"

The blonde lifted free of his reverie to meet the other's icy eyes. "It says that the theme is 'misunderstandings,' and there's a side note about the amount of sexual activity this story is supposed to involve."

Yzak hardly seemed to have heard him beyond "misunderstandings." He mused, pacing back and forth with a hand on his chin. "Okay, we can do that. She's testing us." Suddenly he snapped his head up and cursed. "Damn her! What kind of author is she, anyway, leaving it up to _us_ like this?"

Dearka shrugged. "She says she tried."

"To hell with what she _tried_. This isn't some sort of _game_. We have the threat of a loss hanging over us!"

Dearka folded the little memo and took a seat, on a hard-backed chair beneath the studio's spotlight. "I know how you are with competition, but this one isn't life or death. It's just between our author and her friends. If we can't make it happen, she'll probably get over it."

Yzak gritted his teeth.

"Besides," the blonde added, watching his companion pacing over the black floor, beside the scattered manuscripts of their past exploits, "It's not like losing this will get us fired. She did win the last contest…."

"That was because of Matt and Mello from Death Note, Elsman! The two of them are urban street scum. What does Death Note have on Gundam SEED, anyway? I refuse to let them stay in the top spot longer than us!" Yzak seethed with his fists clenched.

"Mello would say the same thing, I imagine," Dearka said dryly, flipping through the pages he'd picked up off the floor. "Have you _read_ this? Drag queens and a leopard and a smut scene in the bathroom?"

"My point exactly!" Yzak exploded, tossing his hands in the air as if to shake himself loose of life itself. "_That's_ the kind of degeneracy we're up against! She must have been deranged and overtired; there's just no way anyone can expect us to usurp that while keeping our current status as a respectable pair of characters!"

A grin quirked at the edges of Dearka's lips. "I dunno, Yzak. You make it sound like it takes a moral effort for us to reduce each other to puddles of hormones."

"That's not what I meant, Elsman, and you know it. Shut up and help me think."

"We have mobile suits," Dearka volunteered. "Maybe we can misunderstand the controls, trap ourselves in some cockpit by accident, and have cliché cockpit sex as a result."

"What?!"

"It'd certainly cover the extra smut factor we need to plan for."

"What _smut factor_, Elsman?" Yzak put a hand on his hip.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "The one I told you about in the beginning. It's on her memo. 'Intense levels of sexual activity a must.' You think it's because the person judging is the Queen of the Mind Gutter? Why else would our author stress that we had to—"

Yzak began to massage his temples. "I'll kill her with the Duel. This wasn't in our contract."

"It's not like we haven't done this before, Yzak. Half the time it's because we want to, and then it's _us_banging down _her_ door, telling her to write about it…."

"I don't— cockpit sex is too cliché, Elsman, you were right about that. A cliché won't win this for us."

"I thought I already tried to stress that this wasn't about winning?"

"It's a contest! OF COURSE IT'S ABOUT WINNING."

Yzak began to chew the back of one knuckle, and Dearka wiggled a finger around in his ear to stop it ringing. "We could just have sex here in the studio, and make it really, really… vivid."

The silver head surveyed the room, and Dearka followed his partner's gaze. Nondescript, black flooring, the chair Dearka sat on, and the single spotlight shining overhead. Then there were the scattered sheets of paper on the floor. The space was bare.

Yzak looked back at Dearka. "Get serious."

Suddenly, Dearka had a brilliant idea. "What if I am serious?" He let go of the papers in his hand, and they fluttered to the floor. The memo came next. He took it from where he'd tucked it into his pocket and read it aloud. "'For the next contest fic — please use assigned theme, which is misunderstandings. Intense levels of sexual activity a must. Will not be in to direct this time — need copious amounts of mental therapy and thus am unavailable. Good luck, the Silver Sole Alchemist.'" Then Dearka tore the memo sheet in two and let it flutter to the floor.

"D-Dearka! What are you _doing?_ Those were our—"

"Directions?" Dearka interposed. "If you ask me, they weren't very coherent. What did she mean when she said we needed intense levels of sexual activity?" There was a glint in his violet eyes.

"What are you trying to sa—"

"I don't know what that means, do you, Yzak?" A knowing hum.

Yzak snapped his mouth shut, but there was confusion in his glare. His next words were dark. "Elsman, I'm warning you…."

"It's just that it's so _vague_," Dearka went on, rising now from the chair to pace to Yzak's side. "I'm not sure how to interpret this. It sounds like she's telling us…" Dearka's hands reached out to rove the length of Yzak's sides, "…that we need to do something really _dirty_ to help us prepare for the next contest fic, or something. I mean, she said she wouldn't be here, but didn't specifically say that we're to begin without her present. So, she might be back. I really think that all she was telling us to do was to prepare ahead of time, by _practicing_ a little. Does that sound sensible?" Now Dearka's hands had settled onto Yzak's hips. "You don't think we're… _misunderstanding _her directions, do you, Yzak?" He whispered the phrase hotly beside the silver head's ear.

Yzak's body tensed, but his voice was a shade lower when he responded, and his breathing quickened slightly. "I'm not sure. Why would she tell us to do something like that, Dearka?"

"Hmm…." Dearka hummed it against the soft strands of his companion's hair. "Maybe because she wanted to challenge us. See if we've still got some of our old spark left, enough to beat Matt and Mello."

"And we're supposed to do that by having tremendously hot intercourse take place inside this empty studio?"

Dearka pulled back a bit and fixed his features with a mocking pout. "Atmosphere is everything, granted, but I think we can handle it."

"You think you can seduce me in a place like this?"

It was the opening that Dearka needed. He leaned in close, tightening his grip on Yzak's waist and brushing his lips along the silver head's jaw line. "If I didn't have the ability to make your knees weak in _any_ setting, Joule, then I wouldn't be worthy of getting cast as the seme." And with that, he closed his lips around Yzak's earlobe and slid a hand up Yzak's shirt.

Yzak let out a nearly indecipherable gasp, but his arms moved and he gripped Dearka's shoulders. Dearka shifted himself closer, moving his mouth downward to kiss his partner's neck.

"I don't—" Yzak tried for words, but Dearka kept up his ministrations and the silver head had to start over. "I don't think this counts, Elsman. There's no actual room for a misinterpretation, here. We can't win the contest if we chose to misunderstand _deliberately_." Then he let out a strangled gasp.

Dearka had unbuckled Yzak's belt with swift fingers.

"There are no rules that say we aren't allowed to find a loophole," he clarified. "If there are, then that's not _our_ fault. Our author didn't warn us about that, and she would have if she'd known. Or, if she didn't know, then…." He relished Yzak's far-off look of desire. "Maybe she misunderstood the intent of the contest judge."

The decision was settled. Yzak gave in as Dearka guided him to the floor.

"We don't even get to use the chair?" the silver head groaned, writhing as Dearka licked a trail along his collarbone.

"Overrated," came the reply.

They were lying beneath the spotlight.

— x —

_And I lacked any mindset that would allow me take it farther. (Shame. It had potential, in a strange way.) _1,407 words until Realization of Epic Fail point.

_I'm sorry, Ms. Demoness, but I couldn't do it. Any and all urges to write smut — or even just fanfiction in general — seem to have left me as of late. I ended up goofing off and throwing in the towel. I feel like I've let you down, but I ask to bow out of the race this time. I have my excuses, but I am not inclined to make them. Excuses don't fix anything. Ever. But perhaps this failure can be seen as a learning experience for all of us. There are many thoughts running through my head right now._

_(hitotsu) This is me at a serious low. I know that. No one's quite seen this happen before, and yet I'm still posting?! To let everyone see that no one is perfect, perhaps? I'm not sure I'm that righteous. I think I'm just trying to plump up a more cushioned landing for my fall._

_(hitotsu) Maybe I just wanted to laugh at myself. Is this some way for me to humble my pride? By poking fun? Could be. Except I don't exactly find this funny. At all._

_(hitotsu) This makes it look as if I'll never write Dearka/Yzak again. Because this prompt gave me lots to work with, and I had time, so by God, there ought to have been something — right? Should I be throwing in the towel? Do pairings die like flowers?_

_(hitotsu) "__Chippin' around — kick my brains around the floor. These are the days it never rains, but it pours." I think I felt… pressure on this one. Of the self-induced variety._

_Ms. Demoness, if you want the text of the first three attempts, just so you know I actually wrote them, please ask. If not, they are SO getting scrapped. _

_I sincerely wish _**Tobi Tortue**_ and _**anja-chan**_ the best of luck in _their _contest fics. Everyone please go read them once they're posted!_


End file.
